Love Under Two Extroverts [The Lusty, Texas Collection] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

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Love Under Two Extroverts [The Lusty, Texas Collection] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 17

by Cara Covington


  Will raised his head. “Good girl. Now, hang on to me and I’ll give you your reward.”

  He reversed their positions on the bed, and then helped her get her knees under her. “Ride me, Jacqui. Take what you need.”

  She loved the race, when her climax teased her, just out of reach, taunting her. She moved, working her hips, riding him—as he’d invited—and treating him to a clasping, swirling grasp. She flexed her inner muscles and saw the pleasure she gave him, right there on his face.

  “As soon as you take him over, I’m going to fuck this pretty ass of yours, sweetheart.” Norm inserted lube-covered fingers between her cheeks, and she shivered from the words and from the caress of the silky substance over her rosette.

  Then Will reached down between them and rubbed her clit, and Jacqui sobbed as bliss cascaded over her once more. Pulse after throbbing pulse of pleasure traveled to every nerve ending in her body, freeing, claiming, and destroying all in one heart-pounding ripple. She wanted it over and wanted more at the same time.

  She was drenched in Eros.

  “That’s two, love.” Will cradled her as she collapsed on him, and then took over the action, thrusting up into her with strokes that were fast and deep. “Your pussy feels so damn good wrapped around my cock.”

  Jacqui moaned, because his words and the force of his actions stirred her libido anew. She should be done, yet with these two men, her body craved more, and more, and more.

  Then Will managed to tweak her clit and she shivered with renewed hunger. She wanted to move on him, take over, but he held her close and just plundered.

  “Yes!” The single word signaled his climax, and he thrust twice, deep and hard, and then held himself there, at the edge of her cervix. She felt his semen coat the walls of her passage, and bathe the entrance of her womb. The heat of his ejaculation felt so good, she flexed her inner muscles, as if that action would get her more—and this time, it did. Jacqui’s orgasm exploded. The sexual thrill was even more exciting because it had risen up on its own and taken her by surprise. Wave after wave enchanted her as each spasm washed her in rapture.

  She placed sweet kisses on his chest even as he lifted her, sliding her off his cock. When he brought her back down on top of him, her labia spread over the length of his half-turgid dick. “Three.” He whispered the word into her hair, and his hands stroked her back.

  Jacqui grinned. Her men were proving they were nothing if not determined.

  “Up on your knees, sweetheart.” Norm had risen up beside her. He bent and kissed her shoulder, and then helped her onto her knees.

  “Don’t let me hurt you, Jacqui. Tell me to stop, and I will.”

  “You would never hurt me. I know that without a doubt.”

  “I wouldn’t mean to.” Norm continued to rub his lube-coated fingers over her anus. “But I might unleash this beast you’ve created in me and hurt you anyway.”

  He meant it as a warning, but Jacqui thought it sounded like a goal she should aim for.

  When Norm began to push, she pushed back. As she felt the burn, as her sphincter began to stretch, that forbidden craving rose up in her, as it had the last time he’d treated her to this kind of stimulation.

  She felt him move his finger in and out of her anus, felt him swirl it inside her, stretching her. She inhaled when he added a second finger, the burn edging into pain.

  He eased his fingers out of her. She inhaled just as she felt something very large and very hot press against her rosebud.

  “Easy, Jacqui.”

  His hands gripped her hips, his thumbs spreading her ass cheeks as his latex-covered cock pressed inward. Once more those sensations—burn edging to pain—stirred that craving in her for the dark and the feral. And then the pain increased, and she gasped.

  “Want me to stop?”

  “No.” She pushed back against his cock, willing him to enter her faster. It hurt, but she wanted him, desperately wanted him to fuck her ass.

  “Let me, sweetheart. Just let me.”

  She wanted to drive the train but knew she shouldn’t. Will’s arms were wrapped around her. Now he placed a kiss on her head, and then inserted his hand between their bodies.

  “Breathe in deep then let it out, sugar plum. Breathe out and let go.”

  There was just something about the way Will’s voice commanded her that seemed to get her body to obey without consulting her mind. She inhaled deeply, and then let it out.

  And as she exhaled, Norm’s cock breached her sphincter, and he slid into her anus to the hilt.

  “Oh! Oh, that’s…it hurts, but it’s…yeah.” She knew she wasn’t making any sense. This was sexy and dark and thrilling and a whole bunch of other things. Why did the fact that it hurt seem to make it better? She had no time to ponder, because just then Norm pulled all the way out of her and then slid home again. And again.

  “I’m not going to last. Lord, woman, you’re hot and tight, and so damn good. I can’t hold back my orgasm.”

  He slid out and then in again and something seemed to spark within her. She needed more, and she needed it now.

  “Fuck me, baby. Ride me, I need to feel your cock fucking my ass. Do it!”

  “Jacqui.” Norm’s verbal reaction was nearly as satisfactory as his physical one. He gasped, and groaned, and then he started to move in and out of her faster and faster still.

  She’d forgotten about Will’s sneaky hand until he found her slit. It only took him a moment to find her clit. And then he pinched it.

  “Oh!”

  “I’m there. Yes.” Norm’s sperm in the end of the condom was hot proof that his pleasure had erupted. The heat added to Jacqui’s bliss as her orgasm grew and grew, making her shake, making her shiver, and making her burn.

  And as the shockwave echoed through her, she wondered how anyone could come so hard, so often, and not be changed forever by the experience.

  Chapter 19

  “We should probably eat.” Will kissed her forehead.

  Jacqui was about to tell him food was overrated, but her stomach chose that moment to make a very loud, slightly rude noise.

  “Damn, William, we’d better feed our woman before she passes out from hunger.”

  “Hey, I’ve eaten.” She grinned at them, thinking of the way she’d spent time this morning, including that interval on her knees in the shower they’d had a half hour before.

  “True, and as memorable as that was, sugar plum, it wasn’t very sustaining, nourishment-wise, for you.”

  “There’re only between five and twenty-five calories per serving,” Norm said. “Not nearly enough to live on.”

  “Huh. I’d have sworn there was more.”

  “Nope,” Will said. “That’s all. So at most, over the last four hours, you’ve had seventy-five calories.”

  “Crap!” She turned to Norm and kissed him, quickly. “Only seventy-five. I owe you one.”

  He burst out laughing. “We’re not keeping score cards here, sweetheart.”

  “Come on, woman, let’s go grab some lunch.”

  “Brunch,” she corrected, “as it’s not yet noon.”

  “Our woman is a smartass,” Will said.

  “Actually, I kind of like that about her.” Norm grinned, bounded from bed, and held a hand out to her.

  She didn’t want to get dressed—what was the point when the plan was to come back to this bed after they’d eaten?—but she didn’t want to go down to the kitchen, naked, either—just in case someone dropped by. So she glommed one of Will’s shirts, called it a mini dress, and was satisfied with that.

  “Actually, on you? I’d forget the word ‘mini,’” Will said. “That shirt falls to just a couple of inches above your knees.”

  “Are you saying I’m short?”

  Will grinned. “No. I’m saying that shirt looks like a regular dress on you.”

  They opted for sausages, scrambled eggs, and toast. Fast and filling, Jacqui calculated they could be fuelled up and back in bed in abo
ut forty minutes.

  They’d just taken their last bites when a cell phone rang.

  “Just leave it,” Norm said.

  Will nodded even as he looked at the call display. Then his expression changed. “It’s Adam.” And of course, he answered the call.

  “Hey, Adam. Yes, Norm and Jacqui are right here. Sure, just give me a moment.” He set the phone down and pushed a button. “There, you’re on speaker.”

  “There’s been a development in the situation with Wilde. I have someone with me who tracked Wilde from Mississippi all the way to Dallas—that bounty hunter y’all told me about. She lost him early this morning, but I’d say it’s safe to assume Wilde is headed this way. Be at the community center in ten.”

  “We’ll be there.” He hung up the phone and then leaned over and kissed her. “Sorry, sugar plum. We’ll have to resume the recreational part of our program later.”

  “If the end of the day comes with this jerk in custody, it’s almost a fair trade.”

  “Aw, Jacqui. That’s so sweet.” Norm laughed, kissed her, and then ducked away as she tried to smack him. Since he ran for the bedroom, she followed.

  They raced through getting dressed, and then headed out. The drive to the community center only took a couple of minutes.

  Inside, there were a lot of people gathered—more than she expected to see. As they walked in, Paul, Wesley and Lucas Jessop joined them.

  “Bet you’ll be glad when this mess is done,” Lucas said.

  “You guys will be, too, I imagine.” Norm nodded, then, arms akimbo, scanned the room. “Hell of a way to spend a quiet family vacation, for you three, being on alert for a drugged-out killer.”

  “Naw, it’s been fun,” Paul said. “A change of pace, and kind of inspirational, too.”

  Wesley laughed. “Best research we’ve done in ages.”

  Will shook his head. “Screenwriters. Always ‘on,’ never ‘off.’”

  “What can we say?” Lucas shrugged. “It’s a jungle out there.”

  Just then a sharp whistle cut through the din of so many voices talking.

  All eyes turned toward Adam. Will and Norm each took one of Jacqui’s hands and pulled her closer to the front.

  She was aware that Nancy’s brothers followed, and then her attention was on the Sheriff of Lusty.

  “This is Katrina Lawson. She’s a licensed bounty hunter, from LA. I’ll let her fill you in.”

  Jacqui had noticed the tall, slender woman bent over a table, with her back to them. Then she straightened, and turned around.

  “What the fuck!”

  Paul Jessop’s softly spoken epithet, accompanied by his brothers’ strangled sounds, got her attention.

  Jacqui looked at the triplets, and could honestly say she’d never see quite that combination of shock, joy and suspicion on a trio of faces in her life.

  She turned her attention to Katrina Lawson. The woman was gorgeous—long blond hair, nice cheekbones—the kind of look Jacqui had wished for, once upon a time. She was standing too far away to see her eye color.

  The woman spoke, her voice a little on the husky side.

  She snuck a look at the triplets and they seemed mesmerized.

  “Thanks, Sheriff Kendall. I got in touch with the NYPD as soon as it became apparent that Wilde was no longer in New York. I picked up his trail in Knoxville, and was able to get a GPS tracker on his car when he stopped for gas just south of Pine Bluff, Mississippi—the moment wasn’t right for a takedown, and I continued to follow him at a distance. I thought he’d pull off again, but he didn’t—and then the homer fell off his car as he drove through a stretch of road construction just outside of Dallas. I’m sorry to say I lost him, then, as they area had signalmen. That was about an hour and a half ago.” She looked over at the Sheriff. “I disregarded the speed limit, getting here.”

  “What have you been able to glean about his behavior, Ms. Lawson?” Adam asked.

  “He’s…I don’t know how to characterize him. He killed that friend of his in New York—yeah, yeah, innocent until proven guilty, but I know he did it. That act tells me, more than any other, that he’s lost it, because that man was a longtime friend. Hell, Marco had helped him out in the past, urged him to try out for that casting call that got him his breakout role. So Wilde paid him back by stealing his car, drugs, and money and killing him. Then, instead of using back roads and older, less-traveled highways, he headed out on a classic route, using the Interstate system—this I got from a number of reported sightings of him before I caught up. He ditched his friend’s car, knocked over a liquor store—stealing not money but expensive brandy of all things—and then boosts another car—not a nondescript model, but a Caddy. And from the way I had to hang back, I discerned he’s making his way toward his goal. No rush, no strange spooky movements. Hell, he’s acting more like a man on a mission than a fugitive fleeing from justice.”

  “Well, son of a bitch!” Paul Jessop shook his head as he said that, loud enough for everyone to hear.

  Katrina’s gaze snapped to him and she gasped.

  “What is it, Paul?” Adam asked.

  “It’s Razor’s Edge.”

  “Damn it, yes!” Lucas said. “Crazy bastard is following the script from his first movie.”

  “Tony Razor killed a former friend, one who’d sold him out to The Bruiser, which ended up with his wife being killed,” Wesley said. All three brothers began to walk toward Adam.

  Actually they’re stalking, and I have a feeling it’s Ms. Lawson who’s their prey.

  “Then he decides to go to where his enemy—the one who killed his beloved Pamela—has his stronghold.” Paul continued the recap of the script. “At this point in the movie, he doesn’t care if he lives or dies, so he knocks over a liquor store, stealing several bottles of Courvoisier, and then he hot wires a Cadillac, and makes his way, sure and steady, toward his target and vengeance.”

  Adam, his hands on his hips, looked over at Miss Lawson who shrugged, and then he turned his attention back to the triplets.

  Robert Jessop, sitting on a chair not far from Adam, got to his feet. “If we reason the man has snapped—which I seem to recall was the opinion of several of his friends the police interviewed—it’s plausible that he’s stepped out of reality to a safer place. For all intents and purposes, Rick Wilde is Tony Razor. And that could be the key to finding him.”

  The look on Adam’s face was priceless. He looked like a man who’d had a plan, and all the pieces of the puzzle—and had just had the rug yanked out from under him.

  “All right. I can’t believe I’m asking this.” He turned to Paul. “So tell me, cousin, what happens next in the damn movie?”

  “Razor takes over an abandoned building not far from where his enemy is,” Paul said. “He calls it his ‘base,’ and then hunkers down, builds himself some IEDs out of the material that just happened to be there.”

  “And then, in the middle of the night, he heads out to wreak as much havoc as possible.” Lucas looked over at Wesley then nodded at Adam. “It’s your classic ‘high concept’ Hollywood scene with cowboy-type heroics, exploding bombs, the hero zigzagging in and out, being chased and shot at and—predictably—winning the David-versus-Goliath style fight in the end.”

  “Fuck. Bombs?”

  “I don’t have any information that would tell me he has explosives on him,” Ms. Lawson said.

  Adam looked over at Paul. “Y’all said IEDs, which means he improvised these in the movie.”

  “Yeah the ‘warehouse’ he co-opted, in the script, just happened to have a lot of gas and bottles and nails and such lying around.”

  “Maybe he won’t notice if the building he chooses has those things or not—at least not right away.” Katrina Lawson seemed to have gotten over her shock at seeing the Jessops, and returned her mind to the matter at hand.

  “Yeah, in the movie, remember, he discovered those supplies after several hours and drinks from the brandy bottle, when it
occurs to him that he needs more than his one hand gun and few measly bullets to win.”

  “So all you need to do is find out if there’s an abandoned building in the area,” Katrina Lawson said. “It likely won’t be a warehouse, because I understand we’re in a basically rural area. But, I don’t know, maybe there’s an abandoned house, or barn?”

  “Hell’s bells.”

  Jacqui looked over at the man who’d just spoken. Gord Jessop shook his head. “I know where there’s one.”

  “If Wilde chooses that site,” Gord’s best friend, Clay Dorchester, said, “I think we should petition the Town Trust to level the damn place.”

  Jacqui had no idea what they were talking about, but she had the distinct feeling that they were on the verge of a major breakthrough in the case.

  * * * *

  Tony Razor tossed his backpack in a corner. Fatigue sat heavy on his shoulders, and all he wanted to do was rest. He dragged an old blanket over, and used it to cover the dull and dusty bales of hay, giving himself a semi-comfortable place to relax. At least it doesn’t smell like horse shit in here. Though he didn’t know what horse shit smelled like, he imagined it was bad.

  Razor was exhausted from the long drive, and knew he needed to take a few hours to rest up. He was close now, very close to where he needed to be to end this.

  He wasn’t sure what he was going to do when he stormed the gates of the Bruiser’s place—no, not the bruiser—those fucking image consultants. That’s who he was after. Confusion buzzed his brain.

  He closed his eyes and rubbed at the ache at his temple. I’m fucking exhausted, that’s all. Image consultants. As if. I never needed no pansy-assed image consultants. I just quit the gang, walked away and never looked back. I had my Pammy, and she was all I ever needed.

  He’d moved to the other side of town, into a tiny, cheap apartment with barely enough room to move. But that didn’t matter, because he and Pammy had each other. He got old man Jennings to hire him on at his garage, and he worked hard, not even caring about the shit wages. He was out of the gang, when they’d said it couldn’t be done. He was out, and beginning to build a new life for him and his woman.

 

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